


Painful Miscommunications

by insanepanda



Series: Painful Miscommunications [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Illnesses, M/M, Mention of sex, Mentions of Cancer, Miscommunication, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8295190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanepanda/pseuds/insanepanda
Summary: The 2 times the Kurtbastian angst could have been resolved if either of them stopped assuming and started talking… and the 1 time Burt and Blaine simply could not allow the third time to happen and worked together to pull their heads out of their arses.





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Holy moly. This is the first time I wrote such a long chapter. Hope y'all enjoy it. :)

Sebastian was staring blankly at the television screen. It was playing some inane cooking show that he really couldn’t care less about but it was one of Kurt’s favourite shows to get inspired by.

His fingers itched. He should probably clean the kitchen again. It’s not very hygienic to cook in a dirty kitchen, he idly mused.

As the ad started playing, his eyes were, yet again, drawn to a framed picture of Kurt and himself just a week before Kurt decided to leave him.

They were so happy – grinning without a care in the world at the camera, arms around each other. How did it end up like this? This photo spoke of sweeter times, untainted by the bitterness of a breakup he could not comprehend. It was a reminder he did not need, but apparently being with Kurt turned him into a masochist too.

He remembered vaguely after Kurt left, he collapsed onto the floor. But immense rage soon overtook his senses. He felt disconnected from his body as he ripped apart the entire house. Snarling through a haze of red, he tore through the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, living room – clearing it all of any traces of Kurt-fucking- Hummel. But once he came across this picture. He couldn’t do it.

He simply could not bear to.

Suddenly crashing down from the adrenaline high, Sebastian cradled the photograph to his heart and curled into a ball on the crumpled sheets of the bed. But he didn’t cry. He no longer had any tears left to shed. All that was left was a hollow shell.

The next few days passed by him. He operated on autopilot, cleaning every nook and cranny of the house almost religiously to distract him from its emptiness. Kurt always knew to leave him alone when he was on a cleaning spree. Once he’s done, he’ll be back.

But he didn’t come back. Even after three entire days.

Instead, Blaine was the one that came knocking on the fourth day of Sebastian’s self-enforced cleaning spree. His hands were starting to turn raw and peeling as he scrubbed the bathroom’s floor tiles for the fourth time when the doorbell rang. Sebastian forced himself to walk at a sedate pace to the door even though his heart was racing with anticipation and hope.

The half-formed smirk fell along with his heart when he saw the hobbit instead of his boyfriend standing at the door.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes irritably and crossed his arms. “What do you want, Blaine?” He asked flatly, his face an impassive mask.

Blaine was startled at the lacklustre greeting – a complete 180° change from his usual flirtatious manner.

“I-I’m looking for Kurt? We were supposed to meet this morning at the café, but he didn’t show up.”

A flash of pain shot through his heart when he heard Kurt’s name. Sebastian pulled his lips back into a sneer, “I don’t know where the fuck that gay face pranced off to. I say good fucking riddance.” He attempted to slam the door at Blaine’s face but Blaine’s strategically placed foot thwarted his plan.

“What do you mean?” Blaine demanded, “Where did Kurt go? Did you do something to him?”

Blaine’s accusatory words finally set off the explosion of emotions he had been suppressing the past three days.

“What have _I_ done? You should be asking your precious ex what he had done. And why the fuck he did it. Because I certainly have no fucking clue. He didn’t explain jackshit to me. Do I not even deserve a fucking explanation as to why my boyfriend of 3 years is dumping my arse at the curb?” He panted, energy depleting as quickly as it had surged through his body. He could feel his eye grow wet but he didn’t allow a single tear to fall.

Blaine stared at him in horrified sympathy. “C’mon Sebastian, maybe you can explain everything to me inside…” He gently tugged the hand of his trembling friend into the house.

He raised his eyebrows at the state of the much emptier house; that was practically swimming in the smell of cleaning agents. The floor was practically blinding him! Blaine grew even more worried because he knew of Sebastian’s coping mechanisms from their Dalton days. They swung from obsessive stress cleaning to drinking till his liver fails him.

“Bas… have you eaten?” Blaine asked warily, despite already knowing the answer.

“… I ate a granola bar…”

“And when was that?”

“… Yesterday.”

Blaine sighed in exasperation, remembering all those times they had to practically force-feed Sebastian during exam seasons because he ‘had no appetite’.

“Sit there.” Blaine commandeered Sebastian into sitting on the couch. “I’ll whip something up for you to eat. And then we’ll talk.”

===

Sebastian was staring morosely at his half-empty plate, while Blaine was slumped against the chair, unable to process what he had heard.

“So you came back and he had packed everything up.”

“Yes.”

“And he just told you he needed a break with no other explanation whatsoever?”

“Yes.”

“And he just _left?”_

“Yes! I swear to god, Blaine. If I didn’t know you any better, I would have pegged you as a sadist!” Sebastian threw his hands up in frustration and stalked away to the couch.

Blaine quickly followed him, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“I know. I know. I was just double-checking. It’s just that… That doesn’t seem like Kurt…”

“You think I don’t know that? But I don’t care! Let him leave! He’ll realise sooner or later that I was the best for him! And when he comes crawling back, I’ll laugh and slam the door at his face!” Sebastian fumed and flopped onto the couch.

With Sebastian taking up the entire couch, Blaine stood awkwardly at the side and questioned pointedly. “Uh huh and that’s why you were stress cleaning for four entire days, not leaving your house, waiting for Kurt to come back.”

Sebastian huffed and turned his back against Blaine, obviously sulking.

Blaine sighed, “Look. I’ll try to find out what Kurt’s up to. You just… try not clean the house more than once a day ok? We really do not want a repeat of senior year’s Finals.”

Only sullen silence answered him.

Which then brings them to their current situation three days later. With Sebastian now wallowing in the third stage of grief – bargaining – and staring forlornly at the television screen, and Blaine hesitating at the front door, absolutely loathing the fact that he had to be the harbinger of bad news.

He enters the house, schooling his face into completely neutral look so as to not alarm Sebastian. Ironically, it was exactly Blaine’s look of neutrality that set off alarm bells in Sebastian’s head.

“Did you find something? What did you find out? Where is he? Why did he go?” Sebastian jumped to his feet and nearly throttled Blaine in his agitation.

“Look, Bas…” Blaine chose his words carefully while prying Sebastian’s hands off his jacket. “This is just… Rumours. Hearsay. Gossip –”

Sebastian’s hand clamped onto Blaine’s mouth. “Before you list out every synonym for rumour, let me establish that I don’t care.”

He looked very seriously into Blaine’s eyes. “If you came here with that look on your face, it means that you think that whatever you heard has at least a grain of truth in it. So spill.” He calmly stepped back, crossed his arms and stared at Blaine expectantly.

Blaine licked his lips nervously, “At first I was asking around all of our friends, you know Rachel and Mercedes, but none of them had a single clue. So I started hunting around Kurt’s workplace...” He bit his lip, eyes flickering nervously around the room.

“And? What did you hear?” Sebastian asked impatiently.

“… They claimed that Kurt left for France because of a job opportunity there.” Blaine winced, expecting Sebastian to go absolutely ballistic at the idea that Kurt left him for some ‘shitty’ job.

Instead, Sebastian smiled.

‘Oh damn, Bas must have finally snapped.’

“That’s a relief. That means that I can still get him back.” Sebastian smiled softly.

“What?”

“Kurt had always been complaining about how my ‘neat freak’ tendencies were cramping his creative vibes. Maybe he just left me because of that. If I tamp it down, Kurt would come back to me again.” Sebastian was completely convinced by his reasoning, while Blaine eyed Sebastian with pity.

‘He’s completely delusional with grief.’

Blaine lightly patted his shoulder, deciding to leave Sebastian with his delusions, believing that he would snap out of it with time.

He honestly didn’t expect anything to change, or that his delusions would drive Sebastian to do anything other than moping in his house. Which was why he completely did not expect a text message from Sebastian early next morning.

_‘Don’t bother coming over today. I’m flying off to France now. Off to rescue my princess ;) –Bas’_

===

Kurt was honestly wondering if chemotherapy was just a ploy to kill him faster. Because it certainly felt that way.

He was lying on the bed, feeling like death warmed over. No amount of talks and preparation managed to prepare him for the aftermath of his first chemo session.

“Here son, you should at least have something warm in your stomach.” Burt handed over a bowl of warm soup.

Kurt smiled gratefully at him. Burt was the only one he could bear to tell, and that was only because he couldn’t lie to his father and by extension, the rest of the family knew as well.

Burt was absolutely devastated when he heard he only son had cancer and could possibly be dying earlier than his old man. So when Kurt decided to fly over to France so that he could receive the best treatment possible with the added bonus of not running into any of his friends, Burt insisted on following.

“Kurt, are you sure you don’t want Sebastian here with you?” Burt questioned for the umpteenth time. “Even I know that that boy is completely besotted with you. He would want to be with you when you’re suffering like this…”

Kurt sighed heavily, toying with the spoon in his hand, “That’s exactly why I don’t want him to know, Dad…”

Kurt stared out of the window listlessly, idly stirring his cooling bowl of soup. Burt’s crinkled his brows in concern at Kurt’s increasingly lethargic behaviour. He honestly could not comprehend Kurt’s thought process; he had been compliant to his son’s wishes this past month. Never telling anyone else about his condition. But he is now second-guessing his decision to cave to Kurt’s wishes…

“Dad, I really don’t have an appetite right now… I’m going bed.” Kurt waved off his father’s concerns away with an airy hand and made his way into the bedroom.

Burt grumbled light-heartedly about ungrateful brats, but in his heart weighed a heavy stone of concern and worry.

He was just putting away the dishes when his cell phone rang, which was a rare occurrence in itself, given that the people that usually called him (Carole and Finn) had regular Skype sessions with him and Kurt.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Mr. Hummel? This is Sebastian…” Sebastian’s hesitant voice wavered out from his phone.

Burt raised his eyebrows at the tone, but corrects him warmly, “Just call me Burt, Sebastian.”

With that affirmation that Burt still felt kindly towards Sebastian, he immediately pummels head-on, “Burt, I need to know Kurt’s address. I want to woo him back. This is all a big mistake, I just need to explain it to him.”

A grin stole through Burt’s face; this was a sign if he ever saw one. All he needed to do was point Sebastian at the right direction and the couple’s ridiculous problem would be resolved. Kurt wouldn’t be looking as depressed as he was now, and he would probably be able to heal faster with his Sebastian at his side supporting him.

Burt rattled off the address and after the rudimentary words of thanks and farewell, he put down the phone, heart feeling significantly lighter.

Sebastian ended the call with an ecstatic grin practically splitting his face in half. He immediately grabbed his laptop and booked the quickest plane to France. As he shoved random clothes and toiletries into his luggage, Sebastian fired off a text to Blaine, completely certain that he would only see it long after Sebastian had taken off to France.

===

Sebastian couldn’t sleep a wink on the plane. He wanted Kurt back. At the back of his mind, there was a tiny voice acknowledging how unreasonable his decision was.

There was no way Kurt would just up and leave for a job without explanation. Especially without explaining to Sebastian.

But he was in denial and was desperate for any chance he could get to return back to the time when both he and Kurt were happy together. He could not bear considering the alternative – Kurt fell in love with someone else.

By the time the plane touched down, Sebastian’s mind had run circles around that possibility. In his heart, a seed of doubt was planted by his own traitorous and paranoid mind.

Sebastian shook off the invasive thoughts and hurried off to the hotel he had booked. It was ridiculously expensive for no other reason than the fact that it just was. Sebastian would usually never waste his money on such excess, if he wanted to spend an exorbitant amount of money, he would be damn well sure he got his money’s worth.

But this was the closest hotel to where Kurt was staying. Compared to that, it was a small price to pay.

The hotel bed’s soft plush pillows were calling out to his sore aching body temptingly. Sebastian stared at them longingly, before pulling himself together and marched out of the room full of purpose.

He was walking down the street to get to Kurt’s apartment when he saw the most heavenly thing.

 _Starbucks_.

Yeah, so sue him for being a coffee junkie. If he’s willing to spend his money on overpriced coffee, so be it. No judging.

He entered the premises and embraced the warm loving smell of coffee. He would have hurried off the join the queue for the life-sustaining sustenance if it were not for the fact that he saw a very familiar person at the corner of his eye.

He whipped his head around to face that figure, only to feel as if his heart had been crushed and trampled upon by a herd of elephants. A surge of bitterness and jealousy twisted his heart, as he took in the godawful scene that he had dreaded all this while.

Kurt was smiling, making soft goo-goo eyes at a blond schmuck and allowing blondie to get his dirty paws all over him!

Ice-cold rage overtook him as he saw Blond Asshole stand up, and say sweetly to Kurt, “Goodbye Kurt. Remember to call me.” (In a British accent nonetheless, why does it always have to be those damn tea drinkers with their stupidly attractive accents?)

And Kurt smiled. Back. At. Him!

The green-eyed monster within him roared and tore a hole right through his psyche, taking complete control.

Hummel will fucking pay for toying with him.

===

Kurt was humming under his breath as he waited for his non-fat mocha latte. He was sick and tired of being cooped up in the house. Feeling claustrophobic and in a desperate need for a change of scenery, he decided to pop down to the closest café near his house.

While scrolling through a fashion blog on his phone, the smell of coffee suddenly became a cloying weight that settled heavily in his stomach, pushing the partially digested breakfast up his throat. Kurt gagged, trying to push down the sudden onslaught of nausea and dizziness. His face turned dangerously paler than it already was, and he broke out in cold sweat.

He stumbled backwards, tripping over thin air. Kurt braced himself for impact, but instead he felt himself caught securely in the arms of another person. He looked up into the startling blue eyes of his saviour. He blinked a couple of times before realising that Blue Eyes was talking to him.

“-re you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

“No. No ambulance.” Kurt gasped out. “I was just a little dizzy. Need to just… Sit for a little while.”

Blue Eyes quickly nodded and supported Kurt to the nearest empty table.

“You should put your head between your knees when you’re feeling faint.” Blue Eyes advised, looking at Kurt with worried eyes.

Kurt mumbled a word of thanks and followed his advice, feeling the black spots at the edge of his eyes slowly receding and the world was finally not swaying beneath his feet.

Kurt’s head suddenly perked up at the sound of his name being called, but the sudden movement cost him his fragile grasp on his dizziness.

“Erm. If you don’t mind, could you help me get my coffee?” Kurt asked apologetically.

“It’s no problem. Just sit here and rest for a while. I’ll go get it.” Blue Eyes placated with a smile. He hurried to the counter and appeared to flirt with the barista, and came back with Kurt’s coffee and a muffin.

He presented the goods with an air of triumph. “I thought you might what something to eat, so I managed to sweet talk Melissa into giving you one, well – giving me one.”

He was like a cute golden retriever Kurt thought amusedly.

“Thanks.” Kurt smiled at him and slowly sipped at his coffee.

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s good to meet an English speaker in this country.” Blue Eyes smiled. “My name is Adam, by the way. Adam Crawford.”

Kurt was startled to realise that he had reverted into speaking English in his panic. There was a sense of relief and awe in the fact that it was such a lucky coincidence that he met such a nice person that speaks English too in this foreign country.

They sat there and chatted for a while, with Kurt tearing his muffin into bite-sized pieces. He couldn’t help but spill parts of his problems – that have been weighing on him since he decided to leave his friends and Sebastian without warning, to a friendly, neutral party.

To his credit, Adam was a great listener. He did not interrupt nor judge Kurt’s actions. He merely gave sympathetic nods and gentle suggestions that did not make Kurt feel like his reasoning behind his actions were invalid.

It was close to an hour of talking before Adam announced that he had to leave. He took out his phone and gestured for Kurt to input his number. Upon receiving back his phone from Kurt, he plucked in out of his grasp and held onto his hand gently.

Kurt’s eyes widened at the abrupt action. Quickly glancing down at their joined hands and into empathetic blue eyes, “Remember you can always call me whenever you need a listening ear.”

He then stood up, releasing Kurt’s hand. He smiled at him, “Goodbye Kurt. Remember to call me.”

Kurt smiled back in reflex, still in shock at the warmth still tingling in his hand. He was staring at his hand, the foreign warmth slowly fading away, when received a text.

_‘This is my number. You can text or call me anytime. xoxo –Adam’_

He was about to formulate the generic reply when he felt a presence in front of his table, at the recently vacated seat. Emotionally and mentally drained, Kurt was _extremely_ unwilling to share a table with a stranger, and wanted to be alone with his demons.

He looked up with a snappish remark on his tongue that completely withered when he saw who it was at his table.

“S-Sebastian…”

It felt as if he was suddenly dropped into a twilight zone.

Sebastian was not supposed to be here. He specifically left New York to France so that he would not meet him. What was he doing here?!

“You know…” Sebastian started, in a mild tone that could have fooled anyone but Kurt. The tense anger undertones in his words were practically barbs surrounding Kurt threatening to stab him.

Sebastian’s face was twisted into an ugly sneer; his entire demeanour screamed ‘HURT’ and ‘ANGER’ at Kurt. Suddenly, Kurt had been transported into a time where he and Sebastian were high-school nemeses.

Sebastian flopped into the chair, lounging in it with an air of false carelessness. “I thought that it was my fault.”

Kurt’s heart seized in his chest.

“I thought that it was something I had done to push you away.”

Kurt was screaming internally in anguish. ‘Nonono _. No._ It was nothing you had done. It was all on me. Please, _please don’t blame yourself, Bas.’_ But externally, he remained an impenetrable façade.

“I thought that maybe I was too much of a ‘neat freak’. Maybe I really ended up suppressing you and your ‘creative vibes’.”

At this point, Sebastian’s calm façade was chipping away to reveal the raw hurt he was experiencing. Kurt’s eyes were stinging; every word was like a knife to his heart.

“But now I know. It wasn’t me. _It was you._ You and your fashion design. You and your ambition. You and your dreams.” He took a deep shaky breath, almost bracing himself for the next few words he was about to utter, “You and the fact you obviously _didn’t love me as much as I love you.”_

With those condemning words, the barbs surrounding Kurt finally squeezed around him, piercing his very soul.

“S-Sebastian…” He stuttered around the name as if he knew that he was no longer worthy of even uttering his name.

“Forget about it.” Sebastian said flatly, face reverting back into hostile neutrality, “At least now I know. Have fun with your new job and boytoy, Hummel.” He stood up, and Kurt could see every single protective wall he had broken past build back up and reinforced.

Sebastian gave one last lingering look at Kurt before quickly striding out of the café.

Kurt immediately stood up and made an abortive move to stop him, but he sat back down quietly. He stared into the cold cup of coffee in front of him.

‘It’s for the best,’ he told himself. ‘This way Bas will be willing to let me go and live his own life happily…’ He maintained that train of thought, ignoring the tears of loss and regret dripping into his coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter is currently in the works and it's probably going to be a lot shorter than this chapter... which also means that I would be able to finish and post it by next Monday! Yay! :)
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a kudos or comment :3  
> If you find any grammatical errors, please voice them out to me! Many thanks!


	2. The Second Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this a tad earlier than I promised because this chapter is sadly a lot shorter than what I was expecting. Also, I tend to be very descriptive and this chapter basically killed me. I had to rework it so many times because it always sounded so awkward... I tried, though... 
> 
> Hope you will still enjoy! ^^

Burt was a simple man. He was straightforward. If he wanted something, he would go and work for it. If he felt something, he would let his emotions out and not bottle it inside. If he was miserable and could resolve it by simply _talking,_ he would jolly well find the person and _talk to them._

Which was why he could not understand _what on earth Kurt was thinking._

Kurt was getting worse; there was no denying it. The doctors had just recently decided to up his dosage for chemotherapy, which resulted in an extremely unfortunate side-effect - hair loss. And when Kurt found out about that particular side effect, he did not react well. At all.

Burt had found Kurt curled into a ball, sobbing on the floor of the bathroom. He had his comb in a tight-fisted grip so hard that his knuckles turned white, and a large clump of hair was stuck on the comb.

“Dad, I can’t hide it anymore. I can’t pretend any longer. What am I supposed to do?” He blubbered, tears soaking through Burt’s shirt as Burt enveloped him in a tight hug and patted his back softly.

“It’s okay. You’ll be all right. It’s okay.” Burt’s murmurs of comfort fell on deaf ears. Because they both knew that they were simply empty promises.

He couldn’t ignore and pretend everything was just fine and dandy any longer. His illusions were falling apart similarly to his falling strands of hair.

Nausea – he could manage.

Vomit – he could flush away without a trace.

Dizziness – was only temporary.

Lethargy – he could sleep it off.

But a bald head – that was physical evidence of how he was _not okay._ No matter how hard Kurt tried to hide it.

Burt’s heart felt like it was being torn apart seeing his boy suffering so much at such a young age. His brave, _brave_ boy was trying so hard to stay strong. But the loss of Sebastian had crippled him. And that clump of hair was finally the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Kurt, you should really tell Sebastian the truth.” Burt cajoled him, “it’s the very least you could do. Can you imagine the pain and guilt that boy would carry when he finds it out himself?”

It was the same song and dance Burt had been doing, attempting to convince Kurt to tell his friends and Sebastian the truth. It never worked, but this time his words wormed through the chinks of Kurt’s armour.

Kurt was weak. The acute pain of the Sebastian-shaped hole in his heart did not diminish with time; instead, it only grew. He longed for the warmth of Sebastian’s body beside him; Sebastian’s snarky remarks to his equally sarcastic words; Sebastian’s warm laughter and quiet smiles that were revealed to only him; Sebastian’s soft, vulnerable, loving looks he gave to him as they lay on the bed, limbs tangled together.

He knew that if he told Sebastian the truth, he would come running back, even if it were just out of a twisted sense of duty or guilt.

He did not want that.

But now… He no longer cared. The impending possibility of his death resonated within him. He wanted Sebastian. He knew he was selfish. He knew he should not do it if he had even a shred of human decency in him.

He just didn’t have the strength to go against his desires anymore.

===

He sat in his car nervously twisting the corner of the fashionable scarf that he tied on his head. It took him almost one entire week to work up the courage to even come here, to go to Sebastian’s apartment.

Burt had not-so-subtly announced that he had seen Sebastian in France, and “Oh, how I wonder what he was doing here?” Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. “Perhaps, Kurt, you should go and pay a visit to him. Show him the sights.” “Dad, he’s half French. He spent his entire childhood and most of his teens in this country.”

Yeah, subtlety really wasn’t Burt’s strong suit.

This lead to Kurt stewing in the news for almost a day, before he finally cracked and called Blaine.

Blaine stubbornly refused to tell him anything unless he told him the truth. When Kurt tried to give his carefully thought out, well-planned cover story, Blaine cut in unapologetically.

“Sebastian isn’t the only one who has dated you. I know you and I know your bullshit when I hear it.” He said dryly before hardening his voice, “now tell me the truth or I’ll put down the phone and block you because I will not allow Sebastian to suffer any more than he already has under your hands.”

Kurt finally spilt the beans. Once he started, it was as if the floodgates had opened and the words he kept in his heart for so long flooded out. With every word, he could feel the burden he never realised he had been carrying, lifting from his shoulders. By the end of it, his mouth was dry and his eyes were wet. Kurt braced himself for Blaine’s judgement, who had been eerily silent throughout the entire confession.

“Kurt Hummel. You absolute self-sacrificing idiot!”

Tears choking his voice, Blaine demanded, “Don’t you think we deserve to hear that you’re suffering? Doesn’t Sebastian? Or do you really think that lowly of us?”

“NO! Of course not!” Kurt yelled; horror intermingling with guilt was bursting through him. He never meant it that way. He never even thought of it in that manner. All he wanted was to protect his friends from suffering along with him. Once he got better, he would return to them…

Their conversation did not last long. Emotions were running too hot and fast for them to make any rational conversation without prodding raw wounds and tearing open scabbed ones.

Before Kurt hung up the call, he pleaded for Sebastian’s address again.

“Blaine, please… I really need him. I need to set things right. _Pleas_ e…”

Blaine hesitated before finally caving, and revealed Sebastian’s address.

Once the address left his lips, Blaine could hear the frantic rustling of paper and the sound of pencil scratching on paper, before Kurt blurts out a rushed ‘Thanks, Blaine. Bye!”

Blaine leant heavily back against his chair, letting his head tilt back and rest its weight fully the headrest.

He gnawed on his lip in concern, one hand smoothing out the creases formed from the worried frown he had been wearing almost constantly since the whole fiasco.

“Let’s just hope Kurt manages to resolve this whole misunderstanding,” he sighed deeply. The optimism in his heart was however sadly shadowed by the persistent doubt that Kurt might be too late. The nagging anxiety of whether Kurt’s fractured love would be enough to help Sebastian or cause him to further spiral down into self-destruction constantly haunted his mind.

Blaine kept quiet about Sebastian depressive, self-destructive behaviour – the constant mood swings that either caused him to feel completely numb and basically work himself to death or feeling a debilitating heartache and drinking to the brink of alcohol poisoning. He believed that Kurt should see it with his own eyes and pull Sebastian out of his cesspool of misery.

Later, Blaine would realise it would have been wiser if he had just told him.

===

Kurt suddenly found himself hovering in front of Sebastian’s door. His hand was poised to knock the door, but he could not bring himself to do it. He tried summoning the courage he originally had when he first received the address from Blaine when he almost charged straight out of the house before realising it 2 a.m.

But still, he wavered, almost considering turning tail and leaving.

‘For God’s sake, grow a spine!’ A voice that sounded like a warped mix of Santana and Sue Sylvester rang out in his head.

He was about rap his knuckles harshly on the door, before an extremely loud moan reached his ears. Blood rushed up his face, staining his cheeks bright red in embarrassment.

“Fuck yes, harder! Oh God!” A loud litany of groans and curses filled in the air. Kurt stumbled backwards, his red face quickly turning into ashen white, as he recognised Sebastian’s voice.

His heart wrenched with jealousy and defeat. Sebastian had obviously moved on. And he couldn’t blame him, not when it was Kurt who first pushed him away. It was idealistic and foolish of him to think that Sebastian would still remain unattached after all this time.

Kurt gritted his teeth and walked away. As much as he wanted to pull off and pummel the harlot who was currently balls deep in Sebastian, he has to accept Sebastian’s choice. There was no point in burdening him with his problems.

As he quickly speed-walked away from the apartment, he missed Sebastian’s climax and the word that accompanied it.

“Kurt!”

===

Sebastian lay on the rumpled sheets of his bed panting. The cooling sweat stuck to his skin uncomfortably as he tried to enjoy the aftermath of his orgasm.

A growing frustration and dissatisfaction boiled beneath his skin. Sex was no longer enjoyable. Kurt had ruined him for anyone else. All he could think of was how Kurt’s delicate hands would have been so much more skilful at teasing and bringing him pleasure, how his beautiful mouth would have slowly worshipped his skin, how Kurt’s lithe body would have fit so perfectly and warmly at his side.

Instead, the other half of the bed was void of a body as the pale imitation of Kurt he picked up at the club, quickly dressed.

“Next time, I would appreciate it if you don’t call out your ex’s name when we’re fucking.” The Inferior Imitation grounded out, in an extremely disgruntled tone.

Sebastian turned his head and regarded him apathetically.

“That’s fine because there won’t be a next time.” He closed his eyes, and ordered flatly, “You know the way out.”

The Cheap Copy swore at him and stormed out of the house, leaving Sebastian in his cold house, dirty sheets and a crawling sensation of disgust at the foreign traces of touch remaining on his body.

He picked himself up and stumbled into the warm – almost too hot – spray of water in his shower and he scrubbed every crevice and inch on his body. By the time he was satisfied, his skin was red and raw, and it hurt from the hypersensitivity. Even the gentle caress of a cold breeze felt like coarse sandpaper on his skin.

He ignored the prickling pain. It was nothing compared to the emotional pain he faced daily. Kurt's absence seared through him. Agony within his very bones and every breath as he went through every day without him.

Sebastian made quick work of the soiled sheets, putting everything to back into place. He then strode over to his drawer and took out a perfume bottle. He carefully cradled the bottle in his hands before spritzing it liberally around the room.

He took a deep breath, savouring the familiar scent. The sweet smell was completely unlike Sebastian’s usual choice of scent. Because he had specially bought this – not for personal use, but as a reminder.

"You've always loved this perfume, Kurt..." He quietly mourned his ex-lover. 

Wish by Chopard – Kurt’s mother’s favoured perfume, which in turn became Kurt’s.

And now it became a symbol for Sebastian. Of the past, of Kurt.

_Of lost love._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third chapter is coming on slowly, hopefully, I will be able to finish it asap. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a kudos (if you haven't already :P) or a comment.  
> Point out any grammatical errors if you find any! Many thanks! :)


	3. The Interrupted Third Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a frickin' Christmas miracle, people! I finally got over my writer's block and finished this up. I'm so sorry it took that long. Hope you enjoy!

The Interrupted Third Time

Blaine was torn between frustration and amusement. However, his amusement towards Sebastian and Kurt’s inability to simply _communicate_ was quickly being overpowered by his frustration at their incredible talent of making themselves miserable.

“I gave the address expecting a peaceful resolution. What do I get instead?” Blaine threw his hands up in exasperation. “I get a moping Kurt and sulking Sebastian. Why do I even try?” Although his words carried a tone of defeat, Blaine’s bleeding heart could not bear seeing his two best friends in such pain.

Before Sebastian left for Paris, he was a wreck. He was like the aftermath of a car accident that led to a six-car pileup on a highway, with a mangled truck. In the attempt to distract himself, Sebastian’s bright idea was to basically work himself to death. He was either buried in mountains of work to the point his ice-cold she-devil of a boss actually showed a smidge of concern or he was in the house scrubbing his hands raw; skin cracking and peeling from the constant abuse. And in between that, he swung between being in complete denial and wailing for Kurt after his nth drink.

He was a _Mess_.

His unhealthy coping mechanisms were barely holding him together. He was a fraying doll that was a few stitches away from being scrap cloth and wool. And those stitches fell apart when he received the news that he was being sent to Paris for the next few months.

“I-I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Sebastian could barely hear what his boss was saying. The thundering of his heart muffled everything except his rising anxiety. He could feel his lips numbly excusing himself, before his limbs went on autopilot to his office. The world was spinning around him. He could feel his breaths shortening.

He was going to Paris. That was where Kurt was. He can’t. He can’t see him. He couldn’t breathe. His hands are shaking. H-he needs make them stop. He pressed them hard against the desk, barely feeling the sting of the abrasions on his skin. He needs to breathe. Breathe. He needs to breathe. He could feel his head getting lighter and lighter. Bricks weighed down on his chest, squeezing out what minimal air he had left in his lungs.

No. No. NO.

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth and held his breath. He focused on the pressure of his hands digging into the edge of his table, before shakily exhaling. Rinse and repeat until he felt less like a bunch of scattered puzzle pieces. He picked up his phone with a still trembling hand and called Blaine. As stubborn as he was, there was no way he was driving home in this state.

He was exhausted – physically, mentally, emotionally.

===

“Just say you don’t want to go!” Blaine insisted; he had been needling Sebastian for almost an entire week when he found out Sebastian had to go Paris for an extended period of time.

“Like I have said and _will_ continue saying, no matter how many times you try to convince me,” Sebastian slammed the suitcase shut. “I’ve thought about it and I realised that I have to get over Kurt sooner or later. I’m not putting _my_ career on hold because of that fucker.” Sebastian crossed arms in defiance, the hard glint in his eyes dared Blaine to continue with his tirade.

“Fine…” Blaine acquiesced, but that did not mean that he was not going to run damage control behind the scenes.

Which thus led to him giving almost daily Skype calls with Sebastian once he started working at Paris. The first week was torture. Sebastian was practically out of his mind with paranoia that Kurt would suddenly pop out from nowhere to mock him.

But things got better – not a whole lot better – but at least a teensy tiny bit improvement. He drank less, cleaned less and obsessed less. He was improving and Blaine was happy… _If it weren’t for the fact that Sebastian jumped onto the next stage of improvement – finding a nobody to bang to ‘get over’ his Feelings for Kurt –_

**_Just. When. Kurt. Came. Over._ **

And now Burt was on the phone lamenting to him about Kurt’s deteriorating emotional state.

“Blaine. I’m telling you, this is serious.” Burt was at his wits’ end with the current situation. The stress was taking a toll on Kurt’s health and yet he was still adamant on remaining mum and moping in his room.

Burt was alarmed beyond words when Kurt came back from visiting Sebastian. Instead of the peppy, happy Kurt he was expecting, a dead-eyed, unresponsive Kurt stumbled through the front door and locked himself in his room.

“It’s time we intervened.” Blaine agreed, considering the latest call he received from Sebastian who had taken too many steps back in his recovery process with the Kurt Imitation fiasco.

===

“Look, Blaine, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you coming all the way to Paris – which I really do,” Sebastian emphasized empathetically, “but I really don’t think we need to dine at such an expensive restaurant, there are way better and way cheaper options that I easily point out.”

“Maybe I just wanna eat here,” remarked Blaine, stubbornly pulling his best friend to the admittedly really pricy restaurant. The whole plan hinges upon his presence at the restaurant, so he’s damn well going to drag him there, kicking and screaming if he has to.

Sebastian whined, “This place is a damn tourist trap! It’s not worth even a fraction of the price it charges!”

“It’s not like you can’t afford it, Bas.” Blaine rolled his eyes, maintaining a casual façade, while internally mourning the rash decision of choosing a random restaurant.

‘If we had just put in a little research, this would probably gone a lot smoother…” with an internal grimace, he wondered if Burt was facing the same issue as he was. No, scratch that. He _knows_ Burt was facing the same problem as he was.

 

“KURT! C’mon! I made reservations already. Let’s go, son.”

“Just cancel the reservations then!” Kurt insisted, “I’m not spending money on a well known tourist trap! Dad, you lived here as long as I have, how do you not know this?”

Burt scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I don’t really keep up to date with all this hoity toity stuff, but I thought going to a nice restaurant would cheer you up.”

Kurt softened at that, uncrossing his arms. He huffed with a fond smile on his face, “Fine then, let us go have the full tourist experience.”

The smile Burt gave him warmed his frozen heart just a smidge. He knew he was moping. But between his body trying to kill him and his shattered heart, he really could not be bothered to even try to look happy.

He sighed, stepping into the bathroom. Staring into the mirror, he could scarcely believe he had let his standards drop so low. Panda eyes, droopy hair and – _is that an actual pimple he’s seeing?_ Oh no. This would not do. If he was going to sulk, the least he can do is at least sulk with pristine skin.

“Dad, you’re going to need to give me an hour.” Kurt called out authoritatively. Burt could not help but smile a little at that hint of old-Kurt shining through. “Sure. Take your time.” After all, he’s no amateur. He knew his son. And knowing him, he definitely took that hour into account.

===

Sebastian was almost literally dragging his feet to the restaurant. His face was a picture of pure disgust and reluctance. With an exasperated sigh, Blaine tugged his sulking 5-year old child of a friend through the restaurant, ignoring his disgruntled mumbles.

Why did he let Blaine push him to do this? He must really be getting soft. There was no way in all seven hells would he have allowed _anyone_ to get him to do anything he did not want. And where is he now? In a restaurant he _did not want_ to go to. Look even the decorations are tack-

Is that… Kurt?

Sebastian’s internal monologue ground to an abrupt halt, and unknowingly his feet became rooted to the spot. The initial panic and anxiety that rose up within him was quickly dampened by confusion.

What on earth happened to him?

The bright, sassy man he loved has been reduced to a frail and unnaturally pale shell. His usual energy that emanated from his – non-existent – pores were very noticeably subdued to an aura of lethargy. And was that a scarf he is wearing? The Kurt Hummel he knew would die before allowing his glorious, well maintained, carefully conditioned hair to be suffocated and hidden behind a scarf.

He was barely conscious of his feet inching himself closer and closer to be within hearing distance of Kurt(?). He felt his heart thudding fiercely in his ribcage like a wounded bird slamming against the bars of its prison.

He heard Kurt’s light tinkling laughter; saw his fond smile and his relaxed posture.

But he too heard the strained undertone of his words; saw the plastic edge of his smiles and his pallid complexion.

Unthinkingly, he opened his mouth, “…Kurt?”

===

Kurt was having an unexpectedly good time, excusing the lousy excuse of French cuisine that was served to them. He was actually laughing and smiling for the first time in – god knows how long.

For the first time, his pain and discomfort was finally pushed to a corner of his mind. Not completely absent, but at least it was not in the forefront of his mind agonising him. He was so focused on this moment, that he did not immediately notice his name being called.

The atmosphere broke when Burt suddenly turned around and said in a mock surprised tone, “Oh hey! I didn’t expect to see you here!”

Kurt craned his neck to look at whom Burt was addressing. His eyes widened in surprised at the sight of Sebastian – and was that Blaine hovering at the back? Blaine caught his eye and gave a sheepish smile and wave. Kurt numbly waved back.

His mind swam with the implications of Sebastian being here with Blaine. Did Blaine tell him about what happened? No, there was no way Blaine would betray him. But Bastian can be very persistent and very persuasive when he wants to be. And if he sniffed out that Blaine knew something…

He jerked out of his ruminations with the squeak of Burt’s chair as he stood up and offered his seat to Sebastian. He watched with raised eyebrows as Sebastian took the offered seat – a little hesitantly but he still sat down.

Sebastian _hated_ him. He must have, after what he had put him through. So why is he sitting with him -

“Hummel.” Kurt flinched at Sebastian’s brusque greeting.

“… Sebastian.” He didn’t want them to revert back to their high school personas; it was a painful time for both of them that he would not like to relive. The least he could do is to attempt to be friends again. Even if he didn’t deserve it. ~~I’m so sorry, Bas. I truly am.~~

A tense silence quickly enveloped them. Kurt nervously glanced between his plate of food that suddenly looked very appetising and Sebastian’s lounging form. He wondered for a split jealous second to ask about the screaming harlot he heard the other day. His hand clenched into a white knuckled grip around his dinner knife at that thought.

===

Sebastian’s eyebrow rose at Kurt’s suddenly murderous intent, glancing warily at the dinner knife. It’s nothing new. Sometimes Kurt gets wrapped up thinking about something or someone infuriating and slowly his train of thought winds up on a one-way trip to murder town.

Clearing his throat, Sebastian decided to speak before Kurt explodes from what ever homicidal thoughts that were cackling in his brain. “What’s up with the scarf? I thought you had a strict ‘no hats/scarves/anything on your head rule’?”

Sebastian expected Kurt to roll his eyes, wave off his comment or reply snootily about the latest fashion. What he got instead was Kurt flinching so violently he dropped his cutleries onto the plate with a loud _clang_. Kurt’s unnaturally pale face somehow lost even more colour. He stammered and stuttered, picking up and dropping excuses halfway, eyes darting everywhere but his face.

Sebastian leaned forward, intrigued. Kurt was shaken by his comment. Why? He was usually a pretty good liar. His discomposure meant that this was something **big**.

“Hey… It’s ok. Just calm down first.” His voice took on a quiet and soothing tone, as if speaking to a spooked animal. With the way Kurt was acting, he reminded Sebastian of a frightened bunny rabbit instead of the usual wild cat he was.

“Is it a secret? Something you can’t tell me?” Sebastian’s voice cracked at the last word.

Kurt looked up with desperate eyes – eyes that were so torn apart at the indecision. Sebastian couldn’t help but feel a lance of hurt stabbing through him at the thought that Kurt would rather suffer than tell him the truth of what was haunting him.

He felt a part of him wilt. Kurt didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth. Maybe it was a good thing that they ended their relationship…

He leant back against his chair, defeated. He took Burt’s offer, only because he wanted to find out why Kurt had dumped him so suddenly. And now, he didn’t even feel bothered enough to find out anymore.

===

Kurt didn’t know what to do.

It was not often he admitted that he was a loss. But now, he was really hoping for a sign from heaven (if it exists) to lead the way. His eyes scanned around the room in hopes of receiving that sign when he saw his father and his ex sitting at a table nearby.

Both of their bodies were facing towards their table, with plates of cooling food sitting forlornly at their table. But what made him want to slam his face on the table was their comically exaggerated mouthing of ‘TELL. HIM. TELL HIM. TEEEEELLLLL HHHHIIMMM.’

They were attracting _a lot_ of weirded-out looks.

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed under his breath. It was not as if he could just yell out ‘I have cancer!’. He needed to find a way to break it to him quietly, gently-

“I’m leaving-”

“I have cancer!” Kurt yelped and slapped both hands to his mouth. He could feel his face burning red with mortification. He could not believe he had just-!

Sebastian froze with his butt half leaving his chair. He blinked rapidly in confusion with his mouth hanging open.

“What?” Sebastian sank back down on to his chair. “What do you mean you have cancer?”

Kurt snorted, “It means exactly what it is. I have a bunch of malignant cells hell-bent on killing me.” He then sobered. It was not really the time to act all snarky. Especially when he dropped such a bomb on him.

“Is this why you left me?” Sebastian suddenly piped up. “It is, isn’t it?”

Before Kurt could answer, he barrelled on with all the indigence of someone spited, “You, being the noble _fool_ you are, thought you could ‘spare’ me the pain, didn’t you?!”

“I-”

“You don’t get to talk right now!” Sebastian damn near screeched. “I went through so much emotional pain and trauma, only to find out my boyfriend is a fucking dumbass that doesn’t know how to communicate!”

Sebastian panted at the end of his rant, his anger and frustration giving way to an overwhelming surge of emotions he could not identify. “Did you think I would have ever wanted you to leave? If I was the one with cancer, would you have left?”

Kurt immediately exploded with a horrified “No!”

“Then why do you expect the same from me?” Sebastian cried out, his eyes gleaming with tears.

“I-I…” Kurt was stumped. He never thought of it that way. He thought he was doing the right thing, doing what was best for them. But now he realised… he wasn’t. He was just making everyone suffer. In his good intentions, he had ironically done the opposite of what he had hoped to achieve.

His eyes watered, “I’m sorry, Bas. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Sebastian went over and enveloped him in a warm hug that he had missed for so _long…_

“It’s okay. You have all the time to make it up to me, Kurt.” Sebastian mumbled out with his face pressed against Kurt’s neck.

===

Extra:

“Finally!” Blaine cried out joyously. “They finally got themselves together!”

Blaine turned to look at Burt, expecting a similarly ecstatic expression on his face. Instead Burt’s face was marred with a furrowed brow.

“… They do realise that they’re at a restaurant right?”

“Sir, I would like to ask you the same thing.” The waiter remarked dryly beside them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an apology, I have written an angsty and completely optional follow up to this fic. You can read it as a stand alone or as what happens next after this. :)
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a kudos (if you haven't already :P) or a comment.  
> Point out any grammatical errors if you find any! Many thanks! :)


End file.
